Learning to Lean into Myself

Embracing all facets and angles and perspectives of myself and my personal fitness journey has been... well it's had a pretty steep learning curve.

It would be a disservice so anyone I try to help on their own journey, let alone a bold faced lie to say that it all came easily to me. That there weren't a million and one new habits to develop or correct, and even more streams of thought that are rooted in overthinking and self analysis.

There have been a lot of days where I asked myself what in the world am I doing?! Why am I pushing myself so hard, how come I'm never satisfied, and the loudest one of all: Why doesn't my journey look like theirs?

Comparison being the dirty thief that it is, always steals the highlight reel as if it never existed. Like an eclipse, you can't see the little wins piling up, you can't differentiate between struggle and success. You see an outline, a silhouette that leaves you wondering what it's comprised of, because damn it looks good from over here! A fitness journey is unique to each person, but more importantly it's riddled with challenges that often go unseen and unspoken of.

I sat down for an interview the other day and I was asked how I got here. What's my goal as a Coach, as a fitness influencer (dare I even call myself that?), and how did I get here? The way he asked the questions really put it in perspective for me. I've been doing this for a long time. While I've only been certified for a little over 2 years now, my journey in fitness has spanned my entire life. I never thought to have it listed in my experiences, but it's been there for more than a decade. And actually.. more than two.

While I wasn't raised to have athleticism or fitness being a cornerstone of my life, it was always lurking as an undertone to every food conversation, that I needed to watch my weight and my figure and "do something," about it but not like that. Since I was about 10 years old, I was paying attention to what went on my plate and whether or not I spent time outside being active, but not too active lest I trigger an asthma episode.

When I was 12 I started working out in my bedroom because if I tried to use a more open space like the living room, I'd get scolded. "Mia you don't want to get bulky," if I did a real push up or used the 10lb dumbbells. But I'd do them anyway. I had no idea what I was really doing, I had no idea how to measure time over tension, or what good form looked like, but I was trying. In the weight room at school, I was one of the few girls who excelled on strength training days every Wednesday. My gym coach saw me going for leg presses with everything I had. She saw me doing chest presses and keeping up with the boys who actually played sports. I had an undeniable strength even then. She never pushed me to try for anything else though, I think she saw that I was a loner at that age and that I might have struggled to be on a team. But she saw me, and I can't believe I ever forgot it.

I organized dozens of charity walks with friends that somehow always ended up turning into a race and we always ran them. I couldn't ever explain it to my mom, why did I always have to make it a workout?

Fast forward to my early 20s, I had just moved to Alaska when I turned 21 and I had an entire wilderness at my feet. Mountains to explore, rivers to traverse and freeze in. Miles and miles and miles of adventure. On top of fresh motherhood at 23, I had so many reasons to be active and strong. Respectfully, you don't move to Alaska to sit on your ass- you move there to live as fully and ferally as possible.

I did yoga to stay limber in subzero temperatures. I hauled 75-120 gallons of water twice a day, up stairs and into a reservoir. I hiked daily with my dogs and my new little family, and after a few years I started marathon training. I learned to love running and cardio and I really literally did run with it. I ran stairs twice a week. I ran 10+ miles three times a week and strength trained in between. I went hard, and I was in love with every second of it for the first time in my life.

After the accident I spent years working on recovery, learning to walk again, learning to live with pain, learning to correct weaknesses contributing to the pain. Worked through layer after layer of depression and self loathing and set backs. I spent a lot of time in a mental health pit of self destruction. But I clawed my way out of it with a yoga mat and a sword.

I've been in fitness in some form or another for the better part of 20 years, all experience encompassed. I had never quantified my experience in fitness, but it's always been there.

And I realized, while in this interview, that my fitness journey and my journey as a coach and personal trainer has been entirely about leaning into who tf I really am.

I've always had a place in fitness because it's been a part of my life for over two decades.

I've always had a place in fitness because I've literally danced through every single aspect of it: from aesthetic desires and weight loss, to pregnancy, post partem recovery, running marathons, being literally fucking broken, rebuilt, blown up, a sword swinging Pilates princess, and now this interesting Hybrid Coach that trains women to see their strength, to define their boundaries, and build healthy habits that last their lifetime.

One of my biggest struggles since I took up these certifications and decided to just fucking go for it, has been allowing myself to be vulnerable and be seen. Allowing the world to see me working out and preaching health and fitness while not looking like every other trainer on my social media has been a gut wrenching challenge for me. It's another way I've never fit in, but gods damnit maybe I'm just not meant to.

I'm tired of distrusting myself. I'm tired of the exhausting task of minimizing myself because I'm not like the others. I'm TIRED of this Grandpa!

So here comes phase two of the Rebrand. Because it's not just the website that's going through an overhaul. It's Me.